


Sunday Morning Sunshine

by GallaVicious



Series: Begrudgingly Mickey Gallagher [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Uncle Mickey Milkovich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 11:14:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30054597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallaVicious/pseuds/GallaVicious
Summary: When Mickey married the love of his life, he also married his family....much to his chagrin. I’m working on another piece and got a little side tracked with this mini side story. It’s kind of prologue.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Begrudgingly Mickey Gallagher [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2210988
Comments: 9
Kudos: 137





	Sunday Morning Sunshine

Mickey groans. He can feel tiny little grabby fingers scrunching up his jet black hair. 

“Uncle Mickey,” Franny’s delicate voice whispers across his cheek; her face inches away from his own. “Uncle Mickey, are you awake?”

Why the fuck did he insist on the spot closest to the door? Sure, he liked not being crunched up against the wall, having to crawl over Ian every time he wanted to leave the bed, but it would be a small price to pay for uninterrupted sleep. His ginger giant was practically made to be a human shield, instead Ian’s snoring peacefully beside Mickey blissfully unaware of their pint sized intruder. 

Mickey tries to ignore Franny hoping that she will lose interest and go seek her mother instead. This tactic rarely works. Unfortunately she was a true Gallagher - strong willed and persistent. God were these people ever persistent. It was something he was usually grateful for, he wouldn’t be married to the love of his life had it not been for that persistence. But at this very moment he loathes this trait.

Tiny fingers start trying to pry open his right eye and he knows he’s not getting rid of her this morning.

“Please, Uncle Mickey. It’s time for cartoons.” 

“Well since you said please,” he responds, his voice gruff with sleep. Mickey opens the eye that isn’t currently full of fingers. A soft orange glow bathes the room, the sunrise filtering through the sheer curtains. 

Mickey can’t remember when exactly this became a habit but he gradually became Franny’s Sunday morning cartoon buddy. The two of them grabbing fruity cereal, hunkering down on the couch and getting lost in the world of bright colours and cheerful sounds. 

He knew it was his fault for indulging her the first time and then continuing to cater to her instead of sending her back to Debbie. But there was no way he was telling the little ginger no; he never had any will power when it came to red heads with puppy dog eyes. So now she would sneak into his room before 7am and prod at him until he woke up. It was such a regular occurrence that he and Ian started making sure to dress before falling asleep the night before. 

As much as Mickey cherished sleep, he secretly loved the time he got to spend with his niece even more. Although he would die before admitting that to anyone. She reminded him so much of Ian and he hoped that when they have kids they end up being just like this precious girl. Again, these are thoughts he doesn’t plan on sharing any time soon.

His eyes slowly focus and he takes in Franny’s little chubby cheeked face. Her big blue eyes lighting up as she sees her uncle return to the land of the conscious. Mickey can tell she’s moments away from letting her excitement get away from her and he knows he needs to calm her down. Just because he has to be awake at this ungodly hour doesn’t mean that Ian needs to suffer too.

“Easy there lil’ red, you don’t want to wake up sleeping beauty.”

“Sleeping beauty?” Her face crinkles adorably with confusion.

“Uncle princess,” Mickey responds as he gestures over his shoulder to his sleeping husband. 

She lets out a tinkling giggle, thankfully one that was quiet enough to not rouse Ian. “Uncle Mickey,” she laughs, “Uncle Ian is a boy. He’s not a princess.”

“Sure acts like one sometimes,” he grumbles under his breath. “Alright lil’ red, let’s get moving.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed, groaning as he moves to sit up and feels his back pop. Lifting his arms over his head, Mickey attempts to stretch out the kink but it’s useless. He is getting older and years of sleeping on a mattress that’s only an inch thick has permanently fucked up his back. 

He pulls himself off the bed and as soon as he’s standing, he feels tiny fingers curl around his right hand. A warmth spreads in his chests as his eyes lock on the small hand holding his own. It’s not something that she usually does with him but he doesn’t hate it. God, he’s such a sap for this girl.

“Come on,” she says, in the worst attempt at a whisper he’s ever heard, “hurry, hurry.” The two of them walk out of his room, hand in hand, heading towards the stairs.

“You’re the one with the tiny shrimp legs.”

“Nuh-uh,” she corrects. “Uncle Carl said that you’re the little one.”

Mickey grinds his teeth. “Oh he did, did he? Sounds like Uncle Carl wants a fist to the face.”

“Hitting isn’t nice Uncle Mickey.”

He sighs. “You’re right Fran, hitting isn’t nice. Uncle Mickey will talk to Uncle Carl later, using his words to paint a vivid picture of what will happen if he doesn’t keep his trap shut.”

She laughs in response. “You’re silly Uncle Mickey.”

Mickey bends over and hoists Franny over his shoulder, the little girl dangling upside down along his back. He starts his descent down the stairs. “I’m silly, am I?”

She lets out a squeal of delight. He winces slightly, there’s no way that the others in the house didn’t hear that. 

“Shh,” he starts, “you have to be quiet, Fran.” 

“I’m sorry Uncle Mickey,” she says with uncharacteristic restraint. 

“It’s okay lil’ red,” he states as he plops the little girl on the couch. He leans over and turns the TV on, changing it to the right channel. “You sit here and I’ll go get us some cereal, yeah?”

She nods at him enthusiastically, a beaming smile on her face.

That feeling is in his chest again, clenching at his heart.

Choosing to ignore the emotion, he instead turns swiftly and marches off towards the kitchen. Searching the cupboards, he finds a large metal bowl. They’re sharing this morning, he doesn’t want to dirty two dishes.

Mickey digs out the fruity coloured O’s and pours a small amount in the bowl. Franny doesn’t usually eat a lot and he’s getting sick of these blobs of sugar. Next he grabs the milk, smelling it first before pouring it on the cereal. Stupid fucking Carl always leaves the milk out and then puts it back in the fridge after it has been sitting on the counter for hours. Mickey is going to make sure that he has that vivid conversation with him later. Satisfied the milk is fine, he pours it in the bowl, places it back in the fridge and then grabs two spoons from the cutlery drawer.

Heading back into the living room, he finds Franny sprawled out on the couch taking up an impressive amount of space for someone so small.

As soon as she sees him, she jumps up and points to the left end of the couch. “You sit there,” she instructs. 

He plops himself on the couch and rests the bowl of cereal on his lap.

“No Uncle Mickey.” Franny huffs, “you’re not doing it right.”

“Tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

“The cereal is where I suppose ta sit.”

For the third time this morning, Mickey can feel warmth spread in his chest. He knows that he has a special place in his niece’s heart but as goofy, silly Uncle Mickey. The one you run around in the backyard playing guns with or wake up early to watch morning cartoons. It’s rare for her to show him this type of affection as it’s usually reserved for her mother, Lip, Ian and even Sandy.

Mickey leans forward and places the cereal on the table. “My apologies. Here you go, the cereal is gone.”

Seeing that her spot is free, Franny climbs up onto the couch and moves onto Mickey’s lap. She angles her body towards the TV and places her head against his chest. He thinks about leaning over to grab her cereal but he doesn’t want to disturb her and she has already forgotten it. 

After about 5 minutes of them watching the TV, he’s certain that she’s gone until the rest of the family starts to wake and this house becomes a zoo. Completely zoned into the TV with no awareness of what’s happening around her. So it’s shocking when he hears her tiny voice.

“I love you Uncle Mickey.”

Pushing past the lump in his throat, he responds, “I love you too, lil’ red.”


End file.
